Page 70 of Some Like It Scot
And I knew that if I did fall for a Scot, he’d be the perfect one to catch me.
Chapter 13
Graeme
Someone needed to protect this woman.
Even if it meant protecting her from herself.
I sighed as I rebandaged Lachlan’s leg and then carried him up to his room to rest with a video game. The wound wasn’t bad enough to take him to an emergency room, but the sprained ankle would keep him grounded for a wee bit. Probably not long enough. The lad barely stayed down for long.
“Katie may not be good at fishing or like Irn-Bru, but she’s good at tending,” Lachlan said as I helped him out of his wet shirt and pants to replace them with dry. “Like Mum.”
The declaration hit my heart with an added pang. I was already beating myself up about how hard I was on her when she’d shown up at the cottage with my wounded nephew, knowing full well the situation wasn’t her fault. But adding thoughts of Greer to it?
A double stab. Guilt and grief.
Lachlan regularly arrived with scrapes and bruises. And I always fought against overreacting because, well, he was my responsibility, and I wasn’t keen to see someone else I love hurt... or worse.
Certainly Katie had a tendency toward trouble, but it was clear she never meant to hurt anyone. And there was a sincerity to her that kept sneaking beneath my defenses and hitting my curiosity or funny bone or... heart.
“Aye, she has a bit of your mum in her.” I handed him his video game controller.
“Though Mum knew the island better.”
My jaw twinged from the effort to maintain my composure. “Well now, your mum grew up here, so she ought to know it.”
Lachlan nodded, his lips tipping a little. “She’s funny too.”
“Aye.” I rested my hands on my hips, and then the realization dawned. Her hair color. Her height. Both could easily remind the lad of his mum. “Is Katie Campbell your sweetheart, lad?”
The boy’s eyes lit. “I’m still decidin’. She didn’t make fun when I cried like a baby after I fell, and she gives good hugs. But she’s an American.”
He said the word like it was a deal-breaker, and the guilt in my chest deepened some more. Perhaps the wariness of outsiders had been something he’d learned from me, a struggle of my own I didn’t even realize I’d communicated, especially after Allison left. Home and the familiar had become safe, everyone and everything else, suspect.
Children acted as mirrors for the good and the bad, and right now the reflection stung. I lowered myself to the end of his bed. “There’s nothing wrong with her bein’ American, is there now, lad? She cannae help it.”
“It’s not bad?”
I only hesitated a second, thinking of a humorous jab at Americans before stilling the inner comic. “All the things you liked about Katie are the important things, not where she’s from.” I breathed in the words, relaying them to myself. “Doesnae matter where she’s from or where she’s going if her heart is a good fit, does it, lad?”
“Aye, Uncle Graeme.” His smile brimmed. “Mum always liked talkin’ about visitin’ other places far away. I’d wager she’s looking down on them now like a picture book.”
“That’s a good thought.” My throat closed off any other response.
“And I think she’d fancy Katie too.”
I didn’t trust myself to add more words, so I nodded and stood, tousling Lachlan’s hair before placing a quick kiss to his head and leaving the room.
It took a full minute to collect myself as I stood outside his door, only partly because of the constant grief of loss, but even more due to the way I saw my own bitterness, and perhaps my own fear, in Lachlan’s words. I’d lived in protection mode since Greer became sick, hemming in the family so everyone was close enough for me to see and protect. Trying to capture every last moment, hold to every family tradition, sieve through every drop of life left in her to share with Lachlan for years to come... and in my own way, keep her near. In the process I’d closed off possibilities and dreams and even a little faith I used to have in what lay beyond the borders of my world.
And aye, Greer would have liked Katie, as Mum did. Seen to her heart.
I released a deep sigh and took the stairs back to the living room. Perhaps Katie was good at making trouble on the outside, but I’d had trouble brewing within that spilled over to my actions and decisions.
And I needed to make things right.
Katie stood by the door, still wearing her wet jacket, and raised her gaze to me as I reached the bottom of the steps. “How is he?”
